Her Guarding Arm: A 1983 Doomsday Tale
by mdc1957
Summary: The horrors of Doomsday spared no one. Yet while the world changed and the survivors coped with their losses, Hungary refused to leave. Even in death, there was still much to be done. And she would see to it that nothing stands in her way again.
1. Sopron 1989

Author's Notes and Disclaimer:

Here's another fic for the _Hetalia_/_1983: Doomsday_ crossover tales, following a world reeling from a nuclear holocaust. This story in particular follows Hungary, or what became of her after her "death" in _An Ocean of Flame Above_, which would also tie in with the Austria-centric stories eventually.

After a number of edits and draft rewrites, I chose to have each part revolve around a specific place and time period. Also, this is meant to show the changing tides and conditions of the Doomsday-verse in general, and especially how these affect the Alpines (especially Austria and Sopron) and possibly Partium. And counting the lapses and vague holes in the source material, don't expect this to be by any means 100% "by the letter" to the timeline. Also, expect hints of the wider world as well as the story progresses. In any case, I hope you enjoy this!

As for pairings, there's AustriaxHungary. Though expect shades of SwitzerlandxLiechtenstein and the familial angles for Sopron and Partium to show up eventually.

For some reference and translations:

Sopron, as mentioned in the previous fic, is the Magyar city and region bordering Austria, which is also affectionately known as _A Leghűségesebb Város_ ("The Most Loyal Town"). Owing to its location at the crossroads of the two countries (it's also known as _Ödenburg_), it is in many ways genuinely Austro-Hungarian, with the area practically half-German and half-Magyar. Also, the Firewatch Tower is an actual landmark, dating back to the 13th Century.

In the source material for the Alpine Confederation's (and thus Austria's) involvement and background during the time period, it mentioned them being forced to do some drastic measures just to survive. The article also mentions the survival of Monaco and her eventual relationship with the Alpines, which could make for some interesting story ideas.

_Szerelem_ - "Love" (Hungarian)  
><em>Gyermekem<em> - "My child" (Hungarian)  
><em>Nem<em> - No (Hungarian)

The title was paraphrased from the English-translated lyrics of Hungary's National Anthem, the _Magyar Himnusz_.

I don't own _Axis Powers Hetalia_ or _1983: Doomsday_. All rights belong to their respective owners.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Her Guarding Arm <em>**

**_Or, A 1983 Doomsday Tale through a Once-Nation's Eyes._**

_The afterlife had been called different names over countless generations. Elysium. Nirvana. Heaven. Paradise. The Great Beyond. Either way, it was far beyond anything she could have possibly imagined. At one moment, she was naked before a vast plain, as wild horses and their riders galloped into horizon. In another, she witnessed the Budapest of her people's dreams break out in endless celebration. At once, she found herself in an immaculately elegant gala, surrounded by the great kings, revolutionaries, heroes and so many others she had called her own. Even her distant ancestors beckoned on with open arms. By any conceivable definition, it was bliss._

_Or rather, it should have been. Even in eternity Hungary remained restless. So much was left undone and unsaid. All while the thought of losing her children and Austria to a slow fate even worse than the once-Nation's own death continued to shatter what sense of peace or closure she still had. And she was not one to let things slide._

_Doomsday may have given her a cruel hand. But death had not taken away her fierce spirit. She already made her choice long ago. And she would see through it to the very end._

-o-

Vicinity of Central Sopron. 1989.

It still felt strange for her to actually be here in the town's center when she had failed just four years earlier. But for all the indescribable bliss the afterlife offered the once-Nation wouldn't have it any other way. As most of the surviving world was concerned, neither the name "Elizaveta Héderváry" nor the country she embodied existed anymore. Yet here she was, whisking and swirling about with such ease that it would probably catch pilots by surprise if there were still any in the air.

_If they could even see me,_ she thought. Whatever she was becoming, some things were easier said than done. This didn't damper her enthusiasm, however, as she drew closer to a rather lively orphanage close to the old Firewatch Tower, tarnished by neglect but still standing proud over a city that seemed more like a besieged fortress from her old battles. Slipping inside, she could hear the pleasant sounds of children playing as well as the exhausted though satisfied sighs of the men and women looking after them. But as the once-Nation went through the rooms and hallways, she couldn't help but sense something very familiar surrounding her.

The accents. Bilingual signs. The depressingly long ration lines just across the flaking walls and the tired but disciplined soldiers keeping order. _This is your work, isn't it, Szerelem? _As much as it pained Hungary to sense her former people barely scraping by even here, the fact that Austria was clearly trying to aid them despite the chaos gave her both immense relief and consolation. _You still care after all._ Had there been a face, a tearful smile would have crossed it. She was so close now.

It was at the farthest corner that the once-Nation finally found her: a disturbingly malnourished child barely past five taking a nap alone on an old bed. The caretakers called her Julia, which Elizaveta coincidentally had chosen for her so long ago. The young girl's face and hair were very similar to her own back when she still had a physical body. Yet the delicate frame was reminiscent of her former husband. Her presence brought up memories of an old world. Of a crossroads and union between two Nations. Of identities merging into a society at once old and new. If anything, she knew the answer far more intimately than anyone else. _I'm glad you're safe. After all these years…_

Then to Hungary's surprise and horror, she suddenly woke up, sweating and breathing heavily. It must have been a nightmare, yet her daughter refused to cry. Her eyes were wide open and her mother could sense in her glare a mix of Magyar defiance and childhood innocence. Yet even as Sopron attempted to perk herself up, the first faint signs of trauma and despair began to appear on her face, threatening to tear whatever dreams the Survivor-Nation had. The years ahead would make things even more difficult. _Alone…broken…_ Her former husband, whether or not he was even aware of the girl's existence, could only do so much.

_Gyermekem...You're not an orphan. Never will be!_ She wanted so much to envelop her in a warm, loving embrace, telling her that everything would be fine. That they would always watch over her and when the time comes, be a real family. _Together again…_ But before she could even draw close, there was a sudden sensation of being dragged away, which grew harder to resist the more she struggled. _Please…not now…give me this chance…_

"Mama? You're there, aren't you?"

Hungary managed to see her daughter glancing towards her direction. There was soft, hopeful smile on her face, which seemed to make the girl glow for a brief moment. And it was the last thing she saw before vanishing once more into oblivion.

-o-

_"Is this really what you desire?" a voice asked her. There was no anger in its tone, except perhaps a nagging concern which served little more than to frustrate her even more. "You are no longer bound by the laws of the world. By all means you're free from everything. But to interfere with the living brings its own consequences. Are you willing to risk the integrity of your Julia and Roderich when they too will meet their turn in due time?"_

_"And just sit back while they suffer?" Elizaveta snapped, only for a more quiet resolve to take hold. "We were all robbed of closure. Doomsday saw to that. But to find peace while they rot away from the inside…Nem. I just…I can't abandon them. Not like this…"_

_"Please don't be mistaken. I do understand." The voice spoke on in an assuring tone that came across as both sympathetic and detached. "With or without my consent, there have been others who have also considered this path. It's not to be taken lightly, given the dangers involved. Should you opt to go through, know that there would be no return to the way things were. It's not often such chances are given."_

_The nod she gave was all that was needed. Whatever happened from that point on, the once-Nation knew, the world had not seen the last of her. And she would make sure of it, one way or another._


	2. Austria 1993

Author's Notes and Disclaimer:

Here's the second part for this particular entry for the _Hetalia_/_1983: Doomsday_ crossover tales. I thought of presenting both her and the Alpines during the early 1990s, a period in the timeline where life is starting to moving towards something approaching normal but the memory of the nuclear hell is still vivid in most people's thoughts. Also, I've been playing around with _Inception_ based ideas...like the thought of implanting or strengthening an existing idea.

As for pairings, there's AustriaxHungary with a bit of SwitzerlandxAustria. Though expect shades of SwitzerlandxLiechtenstein, some "friendship time" between Poland and Hungary, and the familial angles for Sopron and Partium to show up eventually.

For some reference and translations:

The "submarine left behind by the Americans" refers to the _USS Benjamin Franklin_, a nuclear sub that fell to Australian hands after Doomsday.

Brazil survived Doomsday intact and is a major power. It's also mentioned that the Vatican took refuge there, or rather "moved" to the scattered Catholic holdings around Rio de Janeiro.

Salzburg is one of the classic, main cities of Austria. At various points in its history, it has been a medieval fortress town, seat of a Catholic bishop, birthplace of Mozart, Habsburg enclave, cultural center, setpiece for _The Sound of Music_ and many others. Its Old Town (_Salzburg-Altstadt_) is considered a UNESCO Heritage Site in real life.

New Britain is a Survivor-Nation in what had been South Africa forged by British refugees led by the Windsors. And yes, "Alice Kirkland" is a nod to Nyo!England from _Hetalia_.

"Otto" is a reference to the late Otto von Habsburg, the man who _would_ have been Emperor of Austria-Hungary. In the Doomsday source material, he's mentioned to have survived the chaos, only to pass away at some point. Unfortunately for him, Doomsday had destroyed whatever plans he had for bringing the couple back together and tearing down the Iron Curtain (such as the real life Pan-European Picnic in Sopron in 1989).

The "Tuscan survivors" are a reference to the Survivor-Nation of Tuscany, which around this time is being invaded by Sicily/South Italy. And the Alpines aren't keen in having a Mafia-controlled country running around close to home.

Schönbrunn was the official residence and seat of power for the Habsburgs in Vienna, sometimes called the "Versailles of Austria."

_Danke schon_ - "Thank you" (German; formal form)  
><em>Tut mir Leid<em> - "I'm Sorry" (German)  
><em>Kriegsvermißter<em> - "Missing in Action / MIA" (German)  
><em>Nem<em> - No (Hungarian)  
><em>Szerelem<em>- "Love" (Hungarian)

The title was paraphrased from the English-translated lyrics of Hungary's National Anthem, the _Magyar Himnusz_.

I don't own _Axis Powers Hetalia_ or _1983: Doomsday_. All rights belong to their respective owners.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Her Guarding Arm<em>**

**_Or, A 1983 Doomsday Tale through a Once-Nation's Eyes._**

_At first, her attempts at reappearing in the world were sporadic and frustrating. As the Magyar soon learned, it proved to be much more than just being a gust of wind or an invisible spectator. But it was a hurdle that grew easier with each successive manifestation. At one point, she appeared as a vague apparition in Mariazell if only for a split second, which the Vatican in distant Brazil would later try to wave off as a "lewd rumor." And all the while she felt a faint pulse coming from her scattered people. Nationalists. Refugees. Half-bloods. Those who still associated themselves with her, if only as a fading memory._

_But as the once-Nation adopted, she was forced to grasp the realities on the ground. A new order had already begun as Survivor-Nations rose from the chaos. Elsewhere, remnants of the old world continued to rebuild while a submarine left behind by the Americans embarked on a voyage of rediscovery. Among the stranger things she sensed was the emergence of various worshipers, collectively called "The Cult of the Once and Future King," among the refugees now calling themselves New Britain, all of which either revolved around their royal family or Arthur. The thought of the mythical king or England himself being hailed as a god, especially when it was being helped along by one "Alice Kirkland," distracted her for a moment only to force it away as too egotistic, if not morbid._

_Before long, however, her focus narrowed down towards a bastion of order in what was Mitteleuropa. Past mountains, forests and towns spared from atomic fire until finally a familiar city in the Alps came to view. And despite the sudden feeling of a heavy weight bearing down, she persisted. She had to._

-o-

Salzburg-Altstadt. 1993.

Not many people lived in Salzburg these days, Elizaveta sensed while moving through the empty streets. The few tourists who passed by the half-restored Old Town were either locals or soldiers from other parts of the "Austro-Swiss Union," as the Alpine partnership had come to be known. She herself hadn't seen it much, if at all, since the Iron Curtain came up. _Not that there's much at the other side anymore,_ the once-Nation thought bitterly. Yet today was different. Most of the remaining citizens were converging on a quiet hamlet not far from the city. There were reports over radio that the heir to the long-abandoned Habsburg throne was gravely ill. At any moment, one of the last living ties to the Dual Monarchy would die. And as painful as it was to force the thought back, she knew Otto's time would soon be coming, never to see his dream of a reunited Danube become a reality. _Just like his father..._

It's no wonder then, the once-Nation mused, that it was fairly easy to find her Roderich wandering about the Domplatz. It had been decades since she last saw the Nation, his calm though stoic façade still dignified as she remembered. From her vantage point, she noticed a very recognizable Swiss blond walking alongside him with an assault rifle slung to the side. But as she tried to move closer to the pair, the now familiar sensation of being pulled away threatened to come back. _That sneaky trickster!_ All the while they continued on, completely unaware of the oddly persistent wisp following them.

"It's a pleasure that your sister also came along," she heard Austria mutter nonchalantly. "Yet I still find it surprising that _you_ went at all, Vash. Your people have no love for the Habsburgs. You even fought them…"

"They're _our _people now, remember?" Switzerland shot back. "Besides, as much as I sympathize, this is just out of concern for you. Nothing more."

"Of course you were. _Danke schon_. I suppose it can't be helped…" It sounded as though the aristocrat was only tired from what seemed like a long stroll. Yet having known and lived with him for so long, Hungary knew better. Every slight twitch, subtle motion and facial quirk gave away volumes on what her ex-husband actually thought and felt. And what she sensed as she got a clearer look and their voices grew muffled tore at the once-Nation.

It wasn't the stiffness of his motions, as both of them looked stressed and exhausted from just surviving. Nor was it the worn out suit dating back to the days of Franz Joseph, which Roderich still managed to wear with solemn dignity. Even with the hints of burn marks on the Nation's face, he still projected an image of power expected of one half of the Union dominating the wastes. Yet his eyes seem lost in thought. His hands closed up far too tightly, while a faint twitch crossed his lower lip. Whatever was going on in the aristocrat's head was too deep for anyone, even Vash, to know. For Elizaveta, it felt as though she was seeing a fallen relic. _Nem…can't be. You're stronger than this!_

"…I can't spare any more resources for your glorified refugee camp," she finally heard Switzerland mutter as they approached a battered jeep, the once-Nation forcing herself not to summon a frying pan for that comment. "Our bosses may have vowed to aid those pitiful Tuscan survivors. But I'm not one to let some lunatics cross our doorstep! You'd think that the damn bombs would have wiped out the Mafia!"

"_Your _bosses in Bern, mind," Austria sighed in a vaguely mocking tone that seemed more strained than natural. "I'm not against the defense of our lands. We don't even know for sure if it really is Romano out there. But wouldn't our leaders' priorities be better placed closer to home? All my people are asking for is just more solidarity for Sopron. I can only do so much…"

At this Vash shot a cold glare, only for a glimmer of sympathy and a blush to slip through. "_Tut mir Leid_ Roderich. It's been a long day. You need a rest," he said in a clipped tone that hinted at ending the conversation right there.

_This can't go on,_ Hungary finally snapped. _I won't let it!_ A plan came to being. She couldn't be in close proximity to Austria _physically,_ yet nothing was mentioned on entering his subconscious. The aristocrat wasn't one to reveal such secrets so easily. But as the pair entered the car, she quietly followed them and slipped into the vehicle, aware of what she needed to do. _Forgive me…_

-o-

_Around her, the relics of centuries continued swirling about. It wasn't one specific time or place but rather the collective thoughts and memories of generations of Austrians as well as one Roderich Edelstein. Here was Maria Theresa's gardens. The battlefields of Austrelitz. The Iron Curtain. She half-expected to be in some horrific nightmare. Yet soon enough, the images rearranged themselves until she found herself standing in a glassed ruin that might have once been Schönbrunn._

_Austria sat in one of the ruined chairs, his back facing her as he continued typing before what seemed to be an endless stack of papers. On the stage was a dented screen flashing various films in quick succession. All of them involved those final weeks of September 1983. Or rather different versions of it as though the aristocrat was still trying to find a way to spare his old Empire from Doomsday. Still trying to find her. Yet whatever he did, all the images ended the same: Vienna nothing but glass and ash. A short-lived but brutal Soviet attack. An orgy of destruction. Herself listed as either "Kriegsvermißter" or MIA. Despite his neutrality, Roderich was too much of a gentleman to just abandon her. Even after 10 years since Doomsday, he couldn't bear to list her off as dead. But sooner or later, he would pay the price._

_And Hungary would never forgive him if that time ever came. All she needed was to strengthen an idea. There was only enough time for that now. The Voice would have to wait. Feeling the now pervasive pull, she struggled to move forward, managing to gently embrace her ex-husband from behind. With what little energy she had left, the once-Nation whispered softly to his ear._

_"Don't give up, Szerelem. Please…"_

_But before he could turn around, she vanished once more to oblivion._


	3. Poland 2006

Author's Notes and Disclaimer:

Here's the third part of the story and most likely the second to the last. I

As for pairings, expect some PolandxHungary friendship, a nod to their historic ties, though there's also strong hints of AustriaxHungary and PolandxLithuania.

For some reference and translations:

The Nordic Union is an EU-esque league of the Scandinavian Nations, along with Estonia. That is to say, _all_ the Nordics survived Doomsday, though not without a few blows. It's also mentioned that Denmark is the most adamantly anti-Prussian.

The Kingdom of Prussia is _exactly_ who and what you think it is: a revitalized East Germany that has gone back to its roots. It's described as both formidable but also a tad detached.

The "Polish Adventure" refers to Prussia's efforts to reclaim Pomerania in 2006. It was successful, though not without the Poles proceeding to make life incredibly difficult until at least 2008-09.

Neu-Königsberg ("Neuer Konigsberg" in the source material) is the Germanized capital of the region. In real life, it is the Polish city of Kołobrzeg.

Poland in the Doomsday-verse is described as split between the "Polish People's Republic" and Commonwealth of East Poland, both of which _claiming_ to be the same country, which would explain Feliks' behavior. And yes, Lithuania's also mentioned to have survived, if barely.

Also, "Mag" refers to Poland's pet name for Hungary, short for _Magyarország_.

_Przepraszam_ - "I'm sorry." (Polish)  
><em>Lengyel<em> - Poland (Hungarian; Short version)  
><em>Köszönöm<em>- "Thank you." (Hungarian)

The line "_Na was może być Bożego błogosławieństwa_" (Upon you may God's blessings be) is based on the Polish-Hungarian proverb on their apparent age-old friendship.

The title was paraphrased from the English-translated lyrics of Hungary's National Anthem, the _Magyar Himnusz_.

I don't own _Axis Powers Hetalia_ or _1983: Doomsday_. All rights belong to their respective owners.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Her Guarding Arm<em>**

**_Or, A 1983 Doomsday Tale through a Once-Nation's Eyes._**

_Dreams were peculiar things. Here, Elizaveta knew, was a crack through the divide separating her from the family she left behind. It began with little Sopron. Though it frustrated her immensely to take on various guises at first, the precious time spent with Julia seemed to surpass whatever the afterlife provided. And with each successive visit, the once-Nation found it easier and managed to stay for just a little longer. The same could be said of more distant Partium, who, despite being more Transylvanian than anything else, was still very much her son._

_Roderich was another story. If it wasn't the even stronger forces holding her back, the more rational corners of his consciousness able to push her appearances away as nightmares or warped memories. From what she did see of her ex-husband's mind, maybe it was for the best, growing increasingly chaotic with each attempt. Austrian stoicism only went so far. Still, she found ways no matter how insignificant to help. But it was only a matter of time before that pressure would break him altogether._

_Either way, she found the constraints put on her by the voice increasingly unbearable. The same voice continued asking the Magyar whether she really wanted this path. Others had taken it before and were doing so even now, that much was certain. But not many made the final choice. And already, she sensed faint traces of doubt and confusion over it all. Still, it would have been an unfair to the souls of her people to give up now._

_Meanwhile, the world continued to turn. A new century had dawned among those going about their lives. Yet wars were still being fought across the planet. And as she made her way back, one of these continued to linger on far too close to home._

Somewhere outside Neu-Königsberg. 2006.

The once-Nation found herself in an old though somewhat clean conference hall, the atmosphere practically seething with tension. Prussia, beaten and winded, stood at one end of the polished table, furiously waving a stack of official papers. He screamed in crude German at a furious and similarly worn out Poland on how he'd won back "lost land" and that any Pole who interfered would be forced out. Whether or not Gilbert was trying to convince a world weary of war that he's still good at it, she had a _lot_ of unfinished business with him. If not for Sweden watching on behalf of the Nordic Union, though clearly impatient to get back to his dear wife, the two would have already lunged at each other. _They're still fighting,_ she thought mournfully. _Everyone is..._

As the burly ex-Viking dragged the albino out of the room just before the treaty could be thrown out the window, Elizaveta turned her gaze towards the deceptively effeminate figure as he collapsed on the seat. It was one thing to realize that there were pointless fights and ego trips like this still happening long after Doomsday. It was another to find her oldest comrade in arms struggling to hold back spasms of anger. There was barely anything of his old flamboyance in his ragged Soviet dress uniform. She could sense both the weight his Communist minders and the Solidarity remnants still had over him, as though there were two Polands sharing the same body.

Then all of a sudden he turned towards her direction. "I know you're there, Liz. Stop hiding." The Nation's voice came across as a disjointed mix of emotions. It wasn't by any means cold or harsh. But the Magyar wasn't sure if he was glad or spiteful at her little intrusion.

_"Feliks...you can see me?" _her voice gasped audibly in surprise, at a loss for words for the first time in years.

"Getting carved up and seeing death several times, like, definitely _does_ things..." There was a cold sneer as he stood up, looking far more menacing and bitter that she could remember. "You think I ENJOY this? Having to see everyone die or try to kill me? Oh, it must be great being, like, dead!" After a few tense moments, however, his body seemed to slump as a more welcoming, though very mellow smile entered his face. "_Przepraszam,_ Mag. But it's been a tiring day. And it's totally been a while since Warsaw. Guess we've got a lot of catching up to do right?"

The once-Nation slipped down to "sit" on the farther end of the table, careful not to move any closer. So in the blink of an eye, Hungary managed to recreate her physical body, or rather as it looked before the long-gone Iron Curtain came up, all clad in a light green summer dress. She knew that it wasn't _quite_ the same, appearing far too pristine and _immaculate_. The act itself was daring enough, and to show her true form even more so. _But it's the least I could do right now…_

"It really has, _Lengyel,_" she smiled. "And I've got a _lot_ to tell you..."

-o-

They spent what seemed like the whole afternoon talking, as though there weren't any government minders suspiciously unconscious outside. Neither were Prussia nor Sweden expected to be coming back any time soon. Still, for all the light banter and jokes, the tension never really seemed to go away. Feliks soon came to waxing about how his hated Communists were ironically stronger than ever thanks to Gilbert's little adventure. How he felt as though his people further east were constantly on the brink of forging their own Survivor-Nation.

Elizaveta meanwhile tried her best to convey as much about the afterlife as she could without frightening him. But as she chatted ecstatically on how seeing the "special relationships" in the great beyond were doing wonders to her "platonic, pure heart," she felt a sudden jolt strike along with hints of an all too familiar pull. _Why now? What do you want from me?_

"Is, like, something wrong, Liz?" The blond Pole asked concerned. "You can, like, always tell me."

"I…I guess the voice is on to me," she cringed, struggling to hold back the pull. "But I do like to know something from you, Feliks…"

"Anything."

Hungary took a deep breath, taking care to keep her voice calm. "Was...it the right thing, you think? Marrying Roderich? Having Julia? Coming back and going through all this when _they_ won't let me even be with my family? " It had been a long time since she felt tears creeping downs her face. "I…should be strong enough to deal with this but…"

"Knowing you, Liz, you _are_. And I bet the folks up there totally know that!" Poland replied as he risked bringing her into an embrace, which caught her off guard for a moment before letting go. "Just hang in there! Sooner or later you'd have your way, whatever that is. Maybe, like, after a few frying pan lessons for that voice?" They chuckled for a while even as her skin started to grow transparent and the pull grew stronger.

"I'll take that in mind," she finally voiced out, straining to keep her voice cheerful. "_Köszönöm._"

An old, familiar grin returned to Feliks' face after what seemed like forever. "_Na was może być Bożego błogosławieństwa_. We're, like, brothers, aren't we?"

"Just tell Liet I said hi!"

She managed to see her old friend stand back in surprise, while rough, overblown German faintly echoed from behind the door. But before the smile on his face fully formed, she was gone.

-o-

_"This has to end eventually. You know that more than anyone else."_

_The voice rang through her ears, muting out the once familiar sounds of war: painful grunts, gunfire and the voices of dying soldiers filling the air. As far as the once-Nation could tell, it wasn't one particular battle from Austria's history. Instead it looked as though the aristocrat's mind had merged every battle over the past century into one swirling mess._

_Not that she really paid attention to it at the moment. Her gaze was at the shadowy masses threatening to surround her Roderich. He was wearing the same white officer's uniform Maria Theresa had tailored for the Seven Years' War. Yet aside from an old Luger pistol and a stern though wavering glare, he had no defense against the massing chaos threatening to break him._

_Hungary wasn't sure if it was some hope, determination, obsession, cowardice or habit that was driving Austria now, or all at once. The 20th Century had taken away so many things from the aristocrat: Empire, power, dignity, relevance. And she would not let her own death be the cause of his final downfall._

_"What could you really do to stop this?"_

_"Watch me." Taking the form of a warrior on horseback, she charged into the darkened figures. And with chilling ease and finesse, she managed to take out most of them before the remainder vanished. Before long, the battlefield turned into an endless green plain. She tried to move closer as the brown-haired German struggled to gaze at her._

_"So much like old times…isn't it, my lady?" Even if his mind were to later try to blur out her appearance or pass her off as a projection, this was more than enough at the moment._

_She smiled. "Like old times, Herr Edelstein. I'm right here..."_


	4. Austria and Reunion 2009

Author's Notes and Disclaimer:

Here's the fourth and last part of the story, which finished Hungary's current arc in the Doomsday-verse and shows her tale intersecting with that of her former husband.

As you might guess, this is largely, and rather blatantly AustriaxHungary (and if there are any warnings, it would likely be the implied sex that takes place). This was also done, admittedly, as an attempt in trying to show a good chunk of Austria's arc through Hungary's eyes so as to see just how different, yet similar the details can be with such a perspective flip. At the same time, there are hints as to how the discovery of her remains may or may _not_ have been a sudden stroke of luck as _A Wasteland Melody _might have you believe, among other things.

Also, my apologies for the long delay. I hope this works out and that you enjoy the ride!

As for the translations and references:

Much of the content is also derived from _A Symphony for a New World_, which shows the events from Austria's perspective.

_Gott in Himmel_ - "God in Heaven" (German)  
><em>Ich liebe dich<em> - "I love you" (German)  
><em>Szerelem<em> - Love (Hungarian)  
><em>Ó, Istenem<em> "Oh, God..." (Hungarian)  
><em>Nem<em> - No (Hungarian)  
><em>Igen<em>- Yes (Hungarian)

I don't own _Axis Powers Hetalia_ or _1983: Doomsday_. All rights belong to their respective owners.

* * *

><p><strong><em><strong><em>Her Guarding Arm<em>**_**

**_**_Or, A 1983 Doomsday Tale through a Once-Nation's Eyes._**_**

__Elizaveta found it ironic how she knew the exact place and moment of her death to heart, but not the actual date. For all she cared it might have been 1985 or early 1986. Not that it mattered anymore, as she watched from a distance an exhausted young man in uniform enter a military tent, a group of soldiers still in their bulky expedition gear waiting for him. Many of them were either Swiss or Austrian. But the rest, from how they spoke and looked, were undeniably of her people.__

_Or far more likely, her daughter's. The once-Nation had to remind herself that save for faded memories this wasn't her land anymore. In any case, she knew that the crate being brought before the young man was to be delivered to "Herr Edelstein" at long last, after years of failure. She was also all too aware of what was inside it. And how by some coincidence, it was found in a ruin so decayed that they would have gone past without ever noticing it._

_"It was risky of you to pull that off," the familiar voice intoned, echoing in her head. "To tamper about with the living…I take you're aware of what this means for your loved ones."_

_"He can't go on like this," she gritted curtly, keeping her voice to a faint whisper. "If denial doesn't destroy him, grief will. He's suffered enough! They all have! Please God…"_

_"It cannot be just to hold you back now, isn't it? So I shall offer you this time."_

_This momentarily caught her by surprise, barely noticing the young man making his way out of the tent with his valuable package. Had her time finally arrived? "What are you saying?"_

_"Exactly what I mean." There seemed to be a faint hint of an assuring chuckle in the voice. "You will understand in due time. But know this. Your wish shall be granted. And so will theirs. An angel will see to that."_

_Soon enough, Elizaveta found herself alone. There was no time to waste now. She had an old promise to keep._

-o-

Somewhere near the Sopron Frontier. 2009.

It was an old cottage close to the very fringe of Alpine civilization. Apart from the sounds of weary soldiers going about their watch and of cold November winds melding with dissonant piano chords, there was nothing else around to disturb the privacy of its guest. _Nothing more than a self-inflicted prison,_ Hungary thought gloomily as she glided down the path. _Don't count on that for long, Roderich. _

There was no doubt in her mind by now that Austria knew what was in the box his assistant only recently delivered. That after all these years persisting and waiting in that ritual, she sensed, the Nation finally had his answer staring right into his face. Painful as it was, she had to do it for his own good. _Don't deny it now. Please. _As though on cue, the haunting melodies from his piano had stopped. There was no turning back now.

Taking on a more comfortable form, she silently made her way into the cottage, towards the door at the end of the main hall. If there had been any sound, it might have been from her anxious breathing. It was one thing to simply watch over her former husband from afar or even to slip into his mind. It was another entirely to see him in person and up close after a very long time without any parlor tricks, as he would have called them. As she carefully pushed the door, she forced herself to stay calm, resisting the urge to just lunge right in and…

"Is anyone there?" an aristocrat's voice asked in a barely controlled monotone from behind the door. "I am not in the mood to..."

It parted to reveal a figure that had clearly seen better days, though nonetheless bore a dignified stride. Even so, a coy yet warm smile crossed her face. Despite an otherworldly aura she couldn't quite disspell, the once-Nation took great care in how she showed herself: still wearing the same country dress she had on all those years ago. A fragrant flower nestled on her hair. Still beautiful and vibrant. There were no tricks or subconscious visions this time. Just a former Nation who had gone by the name 'Elizaveta Héderváry.' Warrior. Servant. Friend. Wife. Lover.

"_Ungarn_?"

"Who else, _Szerelem_?" She winked mischievously, if somewhat forced. "After all, we_did_promise to meet the other night." But before Austria could even reply, she brought him into a warm embrace, which he willingly though awkwardly returned.

"It really...has been too long, my lady, But please. You must be tired..."

"Not at all, dear," she replied with a mellow smile. "I'm just happy to see you again."

-o-

It all seemed too surreal. And there was no doubt in Hungary's mind that Austria shared the same feeling, as much as he tried to hide it behind a calm face. _Not that I mind at all,_ she thought, keeping herself calm. _It's just like you._ Yet here they were, having a candlelit dinner just as they used to so long ago. The _strudel_, along with the other simple dishes he managed to prepare definitely helped, reminding the once-Nation of how much she enjoyed his cuisine. Even after all this time, her heart was still Austrian territory. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

"I never expected that you'd come over Elizaveta," he started haltingly, managing a smile. "I would have offered a more suitable selection, even some goulash, had I known."

"It's still definitely better than Gilbert's," she smirked, faking a pout at the mention of Prussia. "You'd think that after a while, that self-absorbed buffoon would lighten up with the whole beer and sausage thing!" She felt tempted for a moment to add how she managed get a sneak peak of the albino's dinner before going against it. Let alone inform him about Julia, whether or not he knew about her. _One step at a time…_

Before long, however, she noticed the cracks appearing in the Nation's facade. His hands seemed to twitch uncontrollably while hints of a pained grimace lined the aristocrat's face. It was as though, she sensed, that he was beginning to realize what was happening, trying pitifully to deny it. After all, loved ones normally don't come back from the dead to share meals. But a part of her wondered whether he blamed himself in some way for killing her.

_Nem…Don't fail on me now, Roderich. _Fighting her own pain in seeing the unfolding sight, the Magyar reached out to him, her hands sliding gently into his and a look of soft concern on her face. Feeling the brown haired German calm down, she slowly tugged at his coat, lifting him up with surprising ease and bringing them close together. But the motion also brought up other, more intimate parts in their relationship that Elizaveta missed. Which she was certain her former husband shared as well.

As the sun set around the couple, she whispered to his ear with a vaguely seductive voice. "Can we be husband and wife once more, dear? Like old times?"

And being a gentleman, to her welcome surprise, he willingly obliged.

-o-

She wished that night would go on forever. Both of them did. It didn't take long before their bodies got reacquianted with each other. Even as hints of her true form showed themselves in the heat of passion, neither of them really cared. And she had to admit that the aristocrat was still just as skillful a maestro in the bedroom. It was after all, a symphony only they alone shared. One that hasn't been played for far too long. But as the last surge of pleasure died down, Elizaveta sensed the faintest hint of a familiar pull once more threatening to claim her. _Damn…not now…please…_

She was soon distracted, however by the growing uncertainty in her former husband. There was no one, human or Nation, for him to put up appearances for. At that moment, the true face of her beloved Austria was laid bare: an image of a man who had lost almost everything and everyone dear to him. Despite his efforts and her own, the immense grief he suffered refused to leave. He couldn't go on like this. Neither could their dear Sopron. Prussia and the Alpines could only do so much. _If only I've been here sooner…Ó, Istenem... _All while the pull grew stronger.

Then finally, she heard him struggling to cope with it all. "A-Are you..."

"I'm really here, Roderich," Hungary replied soothingly as she brought his hand back on her soft chest. A somber look appeared her face even as she played with the aristocrat's hair. "Don't worry, I won't lie. But you've figured it out...haven't you?"

He nodded, blushing as he found it harder to look at her. "My apologies, Elizaveta..." the aristocrat finally muttered in a breaking voice. Which only made it all the more difficult for the once-Nation to hold back tears. "Those..._bastards _killed you! I shouldn't have known tha-"

"_Nem._" She brought his face toward hers, eyes now flowing even as she desperately fought off the pull for just a while longer. "If there's anyone who's sorry, it's me. I can only imagine what it must be like for you. Those first years...the pleading...I really tried to get to you as soon as I could. Even though I'm already dead...it was never my intention to hurt you. God gave me this chance to see you. But my time...my _life _ended years ago...I'm sorry...sorry..."

The Magyar felt him bringing their bodies into a close embrace, using what little energy he still had. "You don't...have to worry," he gasped, his eyes slowly closing shut. "After all that's happened...Even if it's...the end...for us...I have no regrets. _Ich liebe dich._"

Taking his glasses off, she brought him in for one last kiss. She had long resigned herself to knowing that it would never be the same between them. _But whatever happens, we'll still be together. All of us… _she silently vowed, cuddling as Austria muttered sweet nothings to her ears. Even as the pull started to overwhelm her. For a moment, Hungary felt what seemed like wings coming out from her body. She didn't mind it at all.

"Please look after our daughter," she whispered as they held on to each other, her voice growing more distant along with her physical form. "This isn't the end. We'll see each other again...that's a promise."

Even as she slid away from the world, Hungary felt after so many years, a sense of contentment seeing the soft smile crossing his slumbering face for the first time in years. And it would not be the last. For once, eternity didn't seem so lonely and painful anymore. She knew all along. Her wishes were finally coming true.

_As will all of theirs. _Her guarding arm would see to it.

-o-

_There was a sense of quaint serenity in her mood as she listened to Julia talk about her day, as the young girl always did whenever they got together like this. It still frustrated the once-Nation to resort to meeting her daughter in her own dreams. Then again, the last thing she wanted was to just appear before her and Roderich out of the blue. She loved them too much not to do that, tempting as it was._

_Much was left to be done for both Nations to come to terms, that was definitely certain. She knew that Austria still couldn't bear to have the child call him father, as much as he did his best being a good one. And little Sopron was still too young and vulnerable before the changing tides of the world. But to watch them form a bond in such a short time and move on with their lives gave her an immense feeling of peace. Indeed, just to see her, or rather their child's bright face was more than enough. But nonetheless, she refused to abandon them. They all had promises to make and keep. Hungary herself eagerly waitied for the proper time._

_And that time, she sensed, was soon coming: their planned picnic outside Vaduz. She was certain they would all be with the Alpines tomorrow, maybe even with Prussia. Everything was in place. She even had a special party planned. There was only one thing left that had to be done._

_"Do you know something, Julia?" Elizaveta asked with a warm smile, which her daughter playfully returned. With tender affection, she brought the Survivor-Nation onto her lap. "I'm thinking of paying you all a visit tomorrow!"_

_"Really?" The young girl's eyes beamed as she hugged her mother. "Is it actually true? Please tell me, Mama!"_

_"Igen, my dear. I'll always be here for you and Austria. No matter what," she murmured. "I'm also looking forward to it, too! After all, I'm your guardian angel now…"_


End file.
